Late-Night Phone Call

It had been several years since Sunset Shimmer had come to the world of humans, and daylight savings was something Sunset still hadn't gotten used to. She didn't get it conceptually, and the fact that no one else really seemed to either boggled her mind. It wasn't just clunky in effect, but all it seemed to do was reduce the amount of time that the average person got to enjoy sunlight, seeing as it only ever seemed to make the issue of shorter days worse. She knew some people back home who would get pretty up in arms about the idea of reducing time spent under the sun, which could be considered a holy symbol back in Equestria. Those people would also probably consider her a heretic for backtalking Princess Celestia and that she deserved to be gently roasted over an open fire for her audacity, but even lunatics got to sound like they were onto something once in a while. Something something broken clock, something something twice a day.

The point was that it was dark out. It was dark out now, and it was dark out most other times that weren't school hours, during which time she was usually inside anyway and thus saw comparatively little if it. It was disorienting for Sunset. She felt like she hadn't seen the sun in days despite knowing full well she had, and it felt like it was something like 4 in the morning despite not even being 10 PM yet.

Sunset lay huddled in a ball, fully dressed in her day clothes beneath the tattered maroon covers as she stared out across the surface of her stained pillow at the impenetrable mass of black she knew a wall would be. She wasn't comfortable, and had in fact been spending progressively less and less time being comfortable because of the amount of time she was required to spend in her clothing - something which had, historically, always made sleeping hard for her. She felt prickly and restless, the usual calm that she could slip into while stilling her thoughts and body perpetually being chased off by the constant feeling of discomfort she was in.

She wanted to undress right now. Sometimes she could get away with it, depending on the temperature outside, but those times were well in the past by now. This was the coldest night yet, and Sunset wasn't even able to take her jacket off beneath the covers anymore without losing more heat than she was able to retain. She could see nothing in this pitch-black room, but when she had pulled her phone out, she'd been able to see her breath when the screen lit up.

Sunset had done as much as she could to weather-proof this abominable little dwelling. She'd taped up all the windows, negating the glass's ability to leak heat out behind the curtains, and she'd stuffed material and fabric under and into every crevice she was able to reach, but it didn't seem to make a difference. As the nights got colder, so too did her room, as well as every other room in the house. She'd long since run out of candles to shove the air up a couple of degrees, and there was nowhere in this building that she felt comfortable lighting a fire that she wasn't concerned would set the entire place ablaze, especially with all the dust around. This was barely even shelter, at this point. The roof over her head wasn't nothing, but for all the insulation it provided, this place was essentially being outdoors with extra steps. Come winter proper, she may as well take this comforter and lie down on the sidewalk outside.

She'd been hopeful, for a time. Sunset had thought that there was a chance that she'd be able to pull this off on her own using only what she was able to get her hands on without witnesses, but as days crept by, she found that hope dwindling away as the temperature continued to drop. It was going to get colder, and it wouldn't stop getting colder, and she wasn't going to be able to handle it. Maybe she could stave off hypothermia, but her throat felt like a razor had been taken down its length, and sooner or later she was going to start coughing. She was going to get sick, and in conditions like this, it would be impressive if she came out of it. Hell, it was impressive she hadn't already gotten sick. Whatever luck had gotten her this far wouldn't last much longer.

That was it, then. This was going to kill her. Sunset had thought she had a chance, and she had since realized she was wrong. If she didn't freeze to death, she'd die coughing up her own lungs as her body gave out from illness. Her remaining lifetime, most likely, could be measured in weeks.

She should be scared by that thought. Maybe on some level she was - the anxiety that had been plaguing her leading up to this certainly would suggest as much. Right now, though, all Sunset felt was empty. Her entire body felt ten times heavier than it was meant to, and if she tried to rise, she wasn't sure she'd be able to.

And maybe that was okay. Maybe it was alright if she never got up out of this bed again. It's not like it would matter, in the end.

Sunset's thumb twitched. Her phone in her hand lit up, the screen illuminating her face providing the only colors and shapes in this black, featureless void of a room. For the seventh or eighth time that night, Sunset stared at Flash Sentry's contact information, gazing long at the image of his face. It wasn't a real photo of him; the image had been pulled straight out of the school yearbook because she'd never bothered to take an actual picture of him herself. Even when he was right in front of her, she never had time for him.

For the seventh or eighth time that night, Sunset considered calling him.

She didn't know what she'd say. She didn't know if there was even anything to say. What could she say, realistically? What was done was done. No combination of words would change that, only sugarcoat or distract from it. Even if all she said was that she wanted to hear his voice, and for whatever reason he was okay with that, it didn't matter. It wouldn't matter. Best case scenario, it would be awkward and uncomfortable. More realistic was that she'd find some way to make all this even worse, somehow.

Sunset's glassy, prickling eyes drifted to the corner of the screen. The delete button was right there. Her thumb moved ever so slightly, but drew no closer to it. Her eyes never left it.

She wouldn't remember his number without this contact. This was, in essence, her last link to him that existed in this world. If that was gone, that's it. There was nothing else, and she couldn't ask for it back. It'd be gone forever.

But that was fine, wasn't it? It was fine. It was good, even, because he'd lose that connection to her too, if he even knew he had it still. Then she wouldn't even have the option to talk to him, and she'd never be a burden in his life ever again. It'd be like waking up from a bad dream, any trace of the experience just meekly, gently fading away with the memory until it was completely gone. It would be like it had never even happened. She'd just...disappear.

Maybe that was for the best.

The shifting of light briefly tricked Sunset into thinking that the screen her gone out again, but then it started to vibrate in her hand. Rarity’s face smiled at her, and Sunset’s closed her eyes. Even when she pressed her other hand over her eyes, she could still see the light through her fingers.

For once, she didn’t want to answer. She almost didn’t.

Just before the call went to voicemail, Sunset - against her better judgement - hit the green phone icon beneath the picture and raised the phone to her ear. It took her several moments, but she finally found her voice. “Hello?”

“Hiiii darling~”

Sunset could never help the smile she got whenever Rarity greeted her, even the weak one that it was now. She always sounded so happy to see her. “Hey.”

There was a sound of something being crunched on Rarity’s end, like a chip or something, and the sound of a page being turned. “So I’ve been going through a lot of magazines lately looking for good Hearth’s Warming deals, and I found this lovely little number here- do you remember that place we went to at the mall a while ago? Bill’s and Quill’s?”

Sunset didn’t. Maybe she should’ve. “Vaguely.”

“We stopped there briefly- frankly I barely remember it myself, but apparently that outlet they have in the mall is closing down soon. There’s a big clearance sale going on across the entire store.” Another page rustled. “Most of what’s listed here is clothing, but I remember seeing all manner of bits and bobs in there - a rather eclectic stock if I’ve ever seen one.”

Sunset followed along in only the loosest sense. Even at her normal dialogue speed, it felt like Rarity was talking circles around her. “Yeah?”

“Indeed! It’s not entirely surprising they’re going under, really-“ Rarity paused to bite whatever snack she had. It sounded like chips or something. “After all, if they aren’t sure what store they’re meant to be running, how is anyone else meant to know? I’m still not certain what it’s supposed to be. A clothing store, I presume- or that’s how the magazine portrays it.” Another turn of a page. “Quirky little place…”

Space was left for Sunset to say something. She didn’t know what to say, so she ended up just waiting.

“I wanted to check it out sometime,” Rarity went on, “and I was just thinking earlier about how we haven’t gone out to do anything in a little while. Would you…” Her voice adopted a quality that Sunset had always associated with twirling a phone cord around her finger. “…perchance, be available this weekend? I wanted to get down there as soon as possible while the shelves are still stocked.”

“Oh…um.” Sunset tried to think, but the thoughts felt flat and difficult to adhere to. Getting up and going around in a crowded public space, frankly, sounded like the last thing she wanted to do right now. She didn’t want to do anything, but especially not that. “What day is it?”

“Today’s Thursday, darling.”

Sunset’s eyes slipped closed as a small wave of quiet despair rippled through her. Not only was the weekend very close, but there was still one school day left in the week. “…right. Um…”

How did she say ‘no?’ She didn't want to agree to something she didn’t want to do, but it was difficult to say which sounded worse to do: to agree to go somewhere in public when simply being seen sounded like a miserable experience, or to cause Rarity disappointment by refusing.

Realizing she had already taken too long to respond, Sunset started to quietly panic. Need to say words. “Um- I- I don’t know. I need um…”

“You sound a bit out of it, darling.” The note of concern in Rarity’s voice would sound dangerous to Sunset if her tone wasn’t so sympathetic. “Did I just wake you?”

“Yeah.” Sunset gave a single airy chuckle, smiling a bleak smile to herself. “I’m really tired.”

“You sound it, sweetheart.” There was a rustling of paper that preceded the sound of a magazine’s pages gently slapping shut. “I’m sorry to wake you. I thought this would be a safe time to call at.”

“It’s okay.” Sunset wasn’t sleepy, but keeping her eyes open was hard. She let them slide closed. “You didn’t know.”

“Do you want to talk about this tomorrow at school?”

Sunset swallowed. She winced immediately after as the feeling of a rock scraped down her throat hit her, forcing her to take a moment before she went on to reply. “I don’t know if I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Oh.” There was a beat of pause, then some more open concern. “Are you alright, darling?”

Sunset could lie here, just to shake off the worry. She took in a breath to do so, but she found the prospect too tiring to follow through on, and the breath was abandoned as a defeated sigh. “I feel like shit right now.”

“How so?”

“Throat hurts. Just…generally feeling awful right now.”

“You’re not getting sick, are you, darling?”

Sunset nodded. No one would see, of course. “…well, I don’t know if it’s sick, I guess…it’s cold in my room a lot. Feels like I swallowed a knife.”

A sympathetic note came from Rarity’s end of the line. “Well, you don’t sound too bad yet. Perhaps a little hoarse…”

“It’s pronounced ‘pony.’”

It took a second to land, though the moment it did was marked by a snort that escaped Rarity. “Yes, well, you’re clearly not too ill to be a smartass, so I think you’re fine.”

Sunset smiled. It struggled to make its way onto her face, but it was a smile nonetheless.

A little time passed. After a while, Rarity asked, “Would you like me to let you rest, darling?”

Some part of her did. A not insignificant part of Sunset wanted to let the silence and darkness take her like the void in the yawning pit in her chest wanted and just disappear into it. Everything was so much work. Even speaking felt like exertion. She’d yet to open her eyes back up because it was too much effort.

On the other hand… “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Rarity gave a loftily thoughtful noise. “I suppose I can manage something there. Normally my time is at quite the premium, but for you I’m willing to make an exception.” Rarity’s voice sounded smug, but there was a note of warmth in it that felt sincere. “Consider yourself lucky, my darling.”

Sunset huddled a little more in on herself, eyes opening just a little as she smiled in the dark. “I do.”

The amount of conversing that happened for the rest of the night was low. Sunset didn’t have much in her to talk, even as the night progressed, but Rarity didn’t seem to mind. She never seemed to mind the silence, but that was to be expected. She’d always had this way of saying a lot without using a single word.

Sunset didn’t move from where she laid. She spent the rest of the night with the phone to her ear, the pitch blackness of the dilapidated little dwelling parting only just enough to make her face visible in the otherwise featureless gloom. There was no other way her expression could have been made visible if not for that phone screen, just like how the small smile that clung to her lips wouldn’t have been possible if not for the light in a dark place she called Rarity.